“You always glance away, like you can’t stand to look at me. I can understand that, now that you know more about me, now that you know what I really am.”
I frowned at his words, at how wrong he’d guessed. I didn’t want to admit the truth, but I couldn’t have him blaming himself or thinking he disgusted me. I pulled back enough so he could see my hands as I responded.“I know you don’t like to be stared at.”
He tilted his head as if he didn’t understand. “So?”
“So I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
His eyes were hard as he watched me, as if trying to work out my point. After a moment, he spoke softly. “So you look away from me because you don’t want to upset me?” At my nod, he let out an empty laugh. “I’d thought maybe you hated me, that maybe the more I pushed you away, the more you saw what I really was, that you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
I shook my head, wanting him to understand that it wasn’t him at all.“I don’t want you to think I’m like otherpeople, just trying to use you, or have you think that’s all I see in you.”
He pressed his lips together, the action tempting me like everything else he did. It made me remember the softness of those lips when pressed against mine, the rare times he’d touched me instead of the other way around. Finally, he let out a long breath. “You’re the only person who gives a damn about what makes me uncomfortable. The funny thing is, I think you’re also the only person who Iwantto look at me, who I want to want me.”
That made me draw my eyebrows toward each other in confusion.“But you always stop us—”
“Because I’m not in the right headspace for more, because I don’t want you to interact with that side of me. It’s not because I don’t want you to want me. You’re the only person who wantsmeand not my incubus, who sees me at all. Please, don’t hide that from me, don’t look away anymore.” His words were such a soft plea, as if he were begging me.
It struck me as strange, made me wonder if something had happened. The distance I’d kept between us crumbled, as if he didn’t want that anymore.
And I didn’t want it—I never had.
I let my gaze move over him at his request, allowing myself to fully take in the sight of him. He was beyond stunning. His body was flawless, lean and strong with very little body fat to hide his muscles. It wasn’t just the obvious, either. Sure, his abs and his chest and his shoulders might as well have been made of marble, but it went deeper. It was his long fingers that teased me and his collarbones and the points of his hips. Everyinch of him was an invitation that I desperately wanted to take him up on.
His groan came out heavy, as if he could feel the way I looked at him. “I never liked when people stared at me, but I like it when you do. I can smell how much you want me, and for the first time that scent doesn’t make me sick. It doesn’t make me want to run away.”
I wanted to reach out, but when my hand started to lift as if on its own, I pulled back.
“It’s okay,” he assured me. “I want you to touch me. I want to feel someone touch me who seesme.”
At his permission, I gave in. The touch was so soft, it had to tickle, but doing more terrified me. I brushed my fingertips against his chest, the heat of his skin searing. I traced his collarbone, then moved down into the valley between his pecs. The hard ridges of his abs tensed beneath my fingers, but he didn’t stop me or pull away. He trusted me to feel the firmness of his muscles and the rapid beating of his heart.
Yet, each brush of my skin to his made me crave more, made me desperate to have more, to taste him, to lose myself with him.
And it wasn’t because of what he was. Even if he doubted it, even if he thought it was because of his being an incubus, I knew it wasn’t. I felt hunger like this with Brax as well, with Wade, with Deacon. While it was different with each, while we all had our own relationships, it wasn’t as if what I felt for Knox was wildly different, as if it were something magical or driven by his powers.
It was just him and me. It was my own desire. It was his past and his pain and the man he was.
I wanted to go farther, to strip him down, to take off my own clothes, to enjoy the feeling of nothing betweenus. I’d had no idea that I’d had this sort of hunger inside me before I came to Larkwood. It was as if when I’d changed, when I’d become a shade, my libido had amped up as well. It turned me shameless against it.
I moved my lips to his neck, and that shook him free of the moment. He jerked backward as if I’d done something so much worse, like I’d just groped him without warning rather than just kissing his throat. He set his hand over the spot on his neck.
His eyes were wide, but his expression held no fear. Instead, shame hung in the depths there. He dropped his gaze from mine, his hand still covering his neck.
I wanted to ask what it was, but I had no idea how to do that, how to broach the topic when he clearly didn’t want me to.
He sighed softly. “Looks like I didn’t scrub enough.”
I frowned, not understanding his words.
Instead of explaining, he took another step backward. “Why don’t we do this another day?”
I nodded, a heavy numbness on me, the way I hated when I didn’t understand what he meant, when I felt on the outside, forced to just watch him struggle. I wanted to help him, to have him rely on me. It was nearly impossible for someone to untangle their head on their own, so I wanted him to let me in.
However, he’d set his boundary, and if there was one thing that mattered with Knox, it was respecting that. No one else ever respected his wishes, so I’d already sworn to never ignore them. I didn’t bother to try to say goodnight, to ask him anything else.
An uneasy quiet stretched between us before I turned and walked out, leaving Knox to himself and his pain.
Chapter Ten